Dylan, quiet up until that moment, leaned forward and said, “Is it just me, or does it feel like we’re being herded?”
“What do you mean?” Tara asked.
“Think about it,” Dylan said. “Each one of these detours is leading us deeper into Charleston instead of out of it.”
“You think so?”
“And another thing. Where are all the zombies?” Dylan pointed out. “It seems awfully quiet around here, and I’ve yet to see any bodies.”
“You’ve got a point,” Saul said. “But I don’t see any other way. Just keep your guns ready in case of trouble. If it comes to that, we’ll fight our way through.”
Dylan shrugged and pulled out her Glock. “If you say so.”
He drove further until they reached a t-junction. Several cars blocked the road to the left while the right was wide open.
Saul hesitated, idling the engine. “This looks—”
“Suspicious as hell? Yeah, you’re absolutely right,” Dylan said. “I vote we go back. This is just too convenient to be a coincidence.”
“We can’t. It’ll take hours to work around this mess, and we’ll have to spend the night out in the open,” Saul said.
“That’s better than walking into a trap,” Dylan said. “Then, we’ll never get to Fort Detrick.”
“If there is a trap, which I doubt,” Tara replied. “I say we push onward.”
Dylan shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Saul? What do you think?” Tara asked.
“I say we go on, but be prepared for anything.”
Tara pulled her shotgun from its holster. “I’m ready.”
Saul took the turn, and they drove through the streets at a steady pace. Neither too slow nor too fast. Tara scanned every building, alleyway, and car for signs of trouble, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
The Humvee reached a four-way crossing, and Saul headed straight over it. She craned her neck to look ahead, praying there wasn’t yet another barricade. As they reached the middle, something bright caught her eye. Tara turned to look, and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
A bus was headed straight for them, its windshield flashing in the sunlight. Before she could shout out a warning, it crashed into them with incredible force. Tara was thrown sideways, her seatbelt cutting deep into her ribs. Her body lifted into the air, and for a second, she felt as weightless as a feather.
The Humvee slid across the tar until it smashed into a lamppost, and she was brutally flung against the door. Her forehead hit the window, and she blacked out, her consciousness fading into nothing.
Tara jolted awake with a start. Shouts rang through the air, and her door was yanked open to reveal an unfamiliar face. Her attacker shoved a gun barrel into her face, and she raised her arms to shield herself. “Please, don’t shoot.”
“Don’t move. None of you move a muscle,” he screamed.
Tara froze in place while rough hands disarmed her. Before she could do anything, she was pulled out of the Humvee without ceremony. The same happened to Saul and Dylan, and within seconds, the trio stood surrounded by guns.
Huddled on the sidewalk, Tara shivered. Every muscle in her body ached, and her head swam until she thought she’d throw up. She groaned and pressed one hand to her bleeding temple.
Saul grabbed her shoulder, his voice urgent. “Are you okay? How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. I’m—”
“No talking,” one of the men shouted, shoving them apart. “Start moving.”
Tara and the others had no option but to obey. They walked up the street, surrounded by a large group. They were a mixture of men and women dressed in mismatched uniforms from the National Guard, police force, and SWAT.
They were in good spirits, congratulating each other on their latest score. Tara tried to take it all in, but it was hard to stay on her feet. Her vision blurred, and her head ached. She struggled to breathe, and each step sent a stab of pain up her left side. It could be a concussion and possibly cracked ribs.
Just when she thought she was going to pass out, they reached their destination, an old school turned into a makeshift home by their captors. They were led into the grounds and marched to the assembly hall, where a crowd of people awaited them. Loud cheers rose as they were paraded around like prize animals, and an argument about their fate ensued.
“I say we throw them in the ring. Let them provide tonight’s entertainment,” a woman shouted.
“That one looks strong. He should last a long time,” another agreed, pointing at Saul.
“What about the women? They could join us. There aren’t enough of you as it is, and we could use a couple of pretty faces around here,” one man said with a leer.
“Screw you and your pretty faces. I say they die in the ring,” the first woman cried. “Throw them to the dogs.”
“How about we let them fight for a place among us? The last one standing wins,” the man argued.
The two continued to fight about it until a tall man with a hawk-like nose stepped forward. He raised his hands until the room quietened. “Alright, calm down. Let me decide their fate.”
“What will it be, Seth?” the woman said, tapping one booted foot on the floor.
“I like Brett’s suggestion that they fight until only one is left,” Seth said. “Agreed?”
“Oh, come on. Why not kill all of them?” the woman protested.
“Two’s good enough, Lila,” Seth replied. “Even for your bloodthirsty nature.”
Raucous cheers filled the air, and the crowd seemed to reach a consensus.
“No, wait,” Saul cried, grabbing Tara by the upper arm. “You can’t make her fight. She’s too valuable.”
“Valuable? What value does she have other than to provide a night’s entertainment?” Seth asked.
“She’s a doctor and a scientist. Surely, you can use a doctor,” Saul said, his desperation evident.
“How do we know you’re not lying?”
“I swear it. Please,
